How things change
One moment you’re in
The next you’re out
One moment up
The next down
Everything going around in circles
The wide open expanse narrowing down through the years
Crossing over countless barriers
Everyone dressing up as someone else to stay alive
Lost inside foreign clothes
World patterns remain
Living word transforms me
So I’m no longer the same
But more like the One who will never change.
I heard the piano in the distance, trailing off in that far away kind of place.
As I looked I couldn’t help but notice it wasn’t even real, just one of those programmed ones.
Made me think of the environment I was in.
An airport buzzing with life, but sort of lifeless.
People on their way somewhere to be with someone.
Here I am sort of cold, sort of hot; somewhere stuck in between.
Once again waiting. Letting my mind drift off into other places, other worlds. Wondering what all these worlds around me exist of.
Some going on their way to a wedding, others a funeral.
A new job, a new child about to enter into this world.
Will he call it crazy? Dream of new days? A better place? So my mind rambles on with random thoughts that don’t belong anywhere or to anyone. Or do they?
Is it just my imagination, this private world of space and quiet and who knows, perhaps some new opportunity with hope springing up, inviting a future view of promise. But what kind of promise do I speak of? Where does it come from?
Alone again but surrounded by people.
Are we just surrounded by shells of empty casing caught inside our own traps wanting to get out?
Is there some pearl of great price waiting to be found?
Maybe the grass is greener on the other side.
As beautiful as this world is, as large as the universe it revolves around, it’s still too small, so three dimensional.
Surely there’s more. Much more. Surely that’s why the constant search for discovery, for knowledge.
Always more information.
Who can contain it all?
The quest, the hunger, this insatiable thirst for more.
When is enough, enough?
Is there such a thing?
If that were true would that be the beginning of the end?
Is that what being dead is all about?
Are you searching or are you just as blind as the man next to you or the feminist who is constantly offended with unequal opposites?
All the political correct madness that anaesthetises the life and soul of being unique.
Who started that anyway?
When are the characters going to jump out of the pages?
When am I going to be invited to the party?
You are the character.
You’re the one.
Take a deep breath.
Its all about you.
Isn’t that what drives so much of the world.
It’s all about me, my fulfilment, my prosperity.
Driven like a raging fire out of control.
Just burning, consuming, eating up every bit of life.
This has to be the darkness.
Destroying life rather than creating it and sustaining it.
Life designed to run it’s full course, not unhindered but relentless, unable to stop.
Impossible to give up.
On and on this river goes but not dictated to by some random fatalistic turn of events.
Intentional and organic without the trappings of what is boredom.
Simply, because of purpose.There is a design after all.
It’s there everyday like airwaves.
So many are blinded by the disturbances of another world.
They can’t catch the true waves.
The counterfeit overrides all sense of reason dulling the senses, numbing the mind.
Continually drawing you into a false identity.
That’s why man’s search goes on.
To quote Bono “… But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for..”
What walls are you scaling now?
What depths or heights have you reached ?
Do you even know?
Remember you’re the character in this story.
Your life is on the line, written across these pages.
Are you measuring it all by someone else’s life?
Just lost in their translation.
Escaping into false orgasms shrouded by a cloak of fantasy.
For too many, fantasy is an escape far away from the questions. Away from all the pain and suffering served up everyday.
There is light in the real world.
There is life.
You’re alive, but are you living?
Are you light?
If you are, you would see.
Future hope causes you to see today.
To see what others are searching for but haven’t found.
This sounds arrogant but it’s not. It’s extreme confidence.
It comes from a deep place of assurance.
It’s a gift. You can’t create it.
Just like the life you were given. Its a gift you were given. You didn’t create it.
This gift I speak of. You would know of what I speak if you had it. Otherwise the search goes on or the illusions roll out their blanket of deception.
Religion calls a lie the truth and the truth a lie. Always inviting you deeper in.
Into the struggle to find that which apparently is within, only to discover that you’re on the outside of whatever that is.
That’s what lost is. It’s being on the outside without hope or future.
Are you lost?
Knowing and acknowledging this moves you into the beginning steps of knowing.
Slowly moving into an unseen realm that’s not mystical but full of mystery awaiting discovery.
Like visible airwaves.
You see something you’ve never seen before.
It’s not a ghost.
It’s tangible, flesh like.
It’s real like yours, but not the same.
It flows red. Not alien, but belonging to another world.
It came into our world, flowed through, creating rivers of life from the life within.
Spreading out across the desert wastelands of man.
Bringing Divine life.
Giving eternal life.
Uncreated life, creating life.
This is not imagination. It’s as true as the dawn and as magnificent as the glories of the setting sun.
As awesome as the promise of a new day rising. Pulling me into a more brilliant future.
It’s coming from inside. It’s certain now and certainly coming.
My deepest and greatest need to belong is satisfied.
Complete, without striving.
Lifted up on wings of grace.
How could it be?
This longing fulfilled has birthed the tree of life.
I can now sit under its shade enjoying all its fruit.
Fruit that doesn’t waste away. Eternal beyond number.
There for the savouring with an eternal palette.
Taste and see that I am good.
This invitation is held out ready for the listening ear.
He who has ears let him hear.
How sweet the name of Jesus sounds in a believer’s ear.
He soothes the sorrows, heals the wounds and drives away all my fears.
Fear of the future.
Fear of the past.
Fear of the unknown.
Fear of failure.
Fear of success.
Fear is driven out by love.
Only love can make a way through fear’s grip; loosening its hold and providing the way of escape.
Escape from all the lies; from the bondage of sin.
That which separates you from the truth.
The life giver. Promise keeper.
The way, the truth and the life has appeared.
Do you see Him?
Can you behold Him?
Will you come to Him?
He came for you.
This story is written for you.
It’s His story. The greatest story ever told for you.
For your life.
Surrender it. Lay it down for Him as He laid His life down for you.
Then you will truly live.
Spilling your guts out
Like some butcher shop
Wearing your heart on your sleeve
Another gross transplant idiom
Were all these inventors butchers
Her mind was scrambled
Is that like eggs
His words were sweeter than honey
Are these all veg or non veg sayings
Slipping and sliding off the tongue of culture
Penetrating both heart and head
To somehow make sense
Underneath these words
You will sense and know
Whether it’s true or false
I guess with words
That’s what really matters.